“To be discovered staring at the awful evidence would have been fatal; for among those voices I heard the bantering, storytelling tones of Ben Wedlock. Without thinking I scrambled down the other side of the ridge. In the shadow of the hill my foot found the burrow of some small animal and I fell headlong into the tall grass, emptying my lungs and stunning myself momentarily. The horses, unsettled by so much unexplained movement, stamped and snorted and tugged at their pickets. "Here, what's... with the horses?" I recognized Mike McPhee's brogue. "Eyes open," Wedlock admonished. "Horses draw injuns like gnats." Yellow light came over the ridge in a counterfeit dawn. Flattening myself further–I was stretched out on my stomach now-I saw the Irishman's profile on the crest with lantern raised. He passed it around in a wide arc, startling the horses into fresh transports. I buried my face and felt the light sliding over my back. Finally he lowered it.MoreLessRead More Read Less
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